


The Dog Gets the Bone

by Tinkert0y



Category: Gorillaz
Genre: Anal Fingering, Anal Sex, Awkward Dates, Blow Jobs, His usual self really, M/M, Murdoc being a slut, murdoc doesn't know what the heck to the think about that, russel wooing murdoc
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-01-08
Updated: 2017-01-08
Packaged: 2018-09-15 19:27:26
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 10,018
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9252446
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Tinkert0y/pseuds/Tinkert0y
Summary: Murdoc has hit a point in his life in which he is determined to bed Russel Hobbs, or die trying.





	

**Author's Note:**

> Special thanks to supposed2bfunny on Tumblr. Without their help, I probably never would have finished this monster. Make sure you take a look at their Tumblr, they have some pretty amazing Gorillaz fanfics of their own.

Murdoc thought about it more often than he'd ever admit, ever since that night they all got piss-drunk. Noodle had already gone to bed, so Murdoc had gotten out his extensive collection of booze. Most of the evening was a blur, until 2D got the brilliant idea to pants Russel. 

The singer had leaned over and whispered to Murdoc his drunken plan. Murdoc had thought it was funnier than hell, so he helped distract Russel with a story when the drummer got up to get another beer off the coffee table. 2D crouched silently behind the large man and proceeded to yank his sagging trousers down-- and unintentionally taking his underwear down as well. Murdoc's jaw dropped. 2D howled in laughter and collapsed to the floor. Russel struggled to pull his pants back up in his drunken state, which took a painful amount of time. Murdoc could only stare. 

Russel was huge. His cock hung heavy and dark between his muscular thighs. Murdoc's throat went dry. Heat and want pooled in his gut, the alcohol in his system only enhancing his almost knee-jerk reaction of arousal. He'd never seen a cock that fantastic and all Murdoc could think about was how it would feel inside his arse. 

But then Russel yanked his pants back into place and proceeded to chase 2D around the room, or at least attempt to. He took one step and fell to the floor in a heap. He passed out right there in the living room. 2D managed to make it to the hall before he was out, too. Murdoc was left awake by himself, with a painful hard-on in his jeans. 

He barely made it back to his room before his pants were down by his ankles with a hand around his cock. He quickly found one of the numerous tubes of lube he kept around, and began to finger his arse. Images of Russel fucking him from behind, his huge cock stretching him to his limits flooded his mind, and Murdoc could only moan helplessly. He writhed on the filthy floor of his basement, three fingers in his ass, fucking himself erratically until he climaxed into his hand. 

It had been weeks since that night, and Murdoc's sexual frustration had driven him to desperation. His usual sexcapades didn't satisfy him anymore. All he could think about was Russel's fat cock. 

He remembered bringing home a bird from the bar a few days after the "incident". She was lovely little thing, curves in all the right places, and the things she whispered into his ear made his sinful self purr in delight. She was everything he found desirable, yet when it finally came down to it, he couldn't get off with her. She came multiple times of course. However, Murdoc was unable to do the same. 

He ended up kicking her out early, pissed and resentful that she couldn't satisfy him. He even brought home a couple blokes. They worked better than the broad at least, he actually managed to get off, but only if he imagined it was a certain drummer's dick pounding into him instead. 

The pent-up sexual frustration was beginning to bleed into his playing. Just being in the same room as Russel was cumbersome enough, considering the two of them didn't get along all that well to begin with. It was made all the worse when Murdoc knew what Russel was hiding in his jeans, and knowing that Murdoc would probably never get the chance to take a ride with it. 

The band was fed up with him. When Murdoc was frustrated, Gorillaz was frustrated, and nothing got done. The album wasn't finished, all because Murdoc was a filthy cock slut. 

Murdoc was done. He was a man that was used to getting what he wanted, and right now, he wanted Russel. Murdoc knew it was risky, he knew it was fucked up and could possibly end the band, but Murdoc's sex drive was stronger. 

He got tipsy and made his way to the drummer's room. He wobbled a bit as he knocked on the door. He leaned against the frame as he listened to heavy footsteps, and then the door opened, revealing a very surprised but otherwise somewhat pleased Russel. "Murdoc?" He asked, his smooth, deep voice rolling over the bassist in all the right ways. 

"'Ello, Russ," Murdoc greeted back. His eyes lingered at the crotch of Russel's pants before meeting his white gaze. "Mind if I come in?" He asked, putting his usual suave into his voice. He didn't really expect it to work on Russel, but it was worth a shot.

The drummer glanced over his shoulder. "Uh, it's kind of a mess right now. 'M working on something new. But yeah, I guess so." He turned from the door frame and moved into the room. Murdoc followed, kicking the door closed with his heel. He watched as Russel sat down at his desk where his latest piece of taxidermy sat in a feathered, stitched heap. Murdoc made his away over to the bed and sat down. 

"Whatcha workin' on?" Murdoc rumbled, nodding his head at his desk. He really didn't give a shit, but he needed to break the ice somehow. Russel's grin made it worth it.

"A morph of 11 different species of fowl," he explained. "Been planning it for a while, and it took even longer to find all the right parts." 

"Why birds, mate?"

Russel's face went solemn. "It... It's kind of a tribute to Del. He had a fondness for birds. He always wanted to fly." He reached a hand up to stroke the gold necklace around his neck that Murdoc hadn't noticed before. Then he fixed his white-out eyes on the bassist again. "What are you doin' here, Muds?" 

Murdoc smirked and pushed himself up from the bed. "Listen, mate. I wouldn't have come here if I wasn't absolutely certain. I've been thinking about this for weeks, and I intend to get what I want." He slammed his hands down on the arm rests of Russel's chair, trapping him. "First I gotta ask ya: ye ever fucked a man, Russ?" 

The drummer's eyes went wide before his eyebrows furrowed together. He wrinkled his nose, smelling the rum on Murdoc's breath. "You drunk, man?" 

"A little. Answer my question." 

"What the hell kinda question is that?" 

"An easy one. Do I need to repeat myself?" 

"No, that won't be necessary." 

"Then answer it." 

"Yes, I have. Happy?"

"Didja like it?" 

"Murdoc, you tell me where you're going with this, or I'm breaking your nose again." 

Murdoc growled in frustration, his grip splintering the wood of the chair. "I want you to fuck me." 

The silence that followed that million-dollar statement was deafening. Nobody even breathed. Russel's shocked expression slowly turned angry, and he stood up from his chair, forcing Murdoc to stand as well. The bassist felt fear worm its way into his belly. 

"That's not funny, Murdoc." Russel said in a cold, low voice. 

Now it was Murdoc's turn to look confused. "Wha...? No, 'course it's not. I'm bein' serious!" 

Russel let out a humorless laugh. "Uh huh, right. Why would you, Murdoc Niccals, ask me of all people to give it to you? Huh? I'm not a fool, and I ain't about to be played for one." 

Murdoc gritted his teeth, trying and failing to wrangle his temper. "Listen here, fat arse," he jutted a finger into Russel's chest. "I ain't screwing with you for once. In fact, you should feel honored! I'm offering you my arse on a silver platter, and you think it's a joke?! Hell, I wish it was, but it's not! It took a lot of liquid courage sloshing around in me to admit this out load, you fucking cow, so don't you think for one bloody second that it's a joke!" 

Russel was silent for several moments as he digested Murdoc's words. He studied the bassist's mismatched eyes with his own white pair with fierce intensity, looking for any signs that Murdoc was pulling his leg. Murdoc stared right back, refusing to back down. He'd already embarrassed himself enough by admitting his desire for the drummer out loud, so he was more determined than ever to come out on top. 

Finally, Russel let out a sigh and looked at the ground. "No foolin', huh?" He asked in a much quieter voice. 

Murdoc took a step back. "No foolin'."

The drummer shook his head in disbelief. He collapsed back into his chair and the whole room shook. "Why?" He asked, looking up at the other man with furrowed eyebrows. 

For the first time in years, Murdoc felt a blush creep into his cheeks. He scratched the back of his neck nervously. "Do you remember when we got drunk with 2D a couple weeks ago?" 

Russel nodded. 

"And you remember when 2D... pantsed you?" 

Russel nodded once more, his eyebrows lowering as he recalled the memory. Murdoc took a deep breath. Satan, give him strength. 

"Welp, let's just say I saw quite a bit of you, and that's all I've been thinking about since then. And considerin' all that's happened to us in the past few years, I figured what the hell? Why not?"

Russel let out a huff of laughter and scrubbed his face with his hands. "I have no idea if I should feel flattered by that statement or not." 

Murdoc grinned. "Be flattered, mate. You just got a compliment from Murdoc Niccals."

Russel flashed him his own grin before his expression turned curious. "So is this why you've been such a moody bitch the past couple weeks?"

"I haven't been _moody_!" 

"Please, Muds. Don't even try to deny it. You're the reason the album hasn't been finished yet." 

Murdoc stomped his foot and let out an angry huff. "Yes, yes, _fine_. That's the reason why I've been so... _moody_. Don't let it go to your head." He rubbed a hand over his brow. "Look, my pride is already wounded, can we just move on to the matter at hand?" 

Murdoc sauntered across the room and once again placed his hands on the arms of Russel's chair. He leaned in close, looking down at the drummer like a predator with its prey. "Whaddya say, Russ?" He purred, licking his lips. "Wanna know what all the fuss is about?" 

Russel looked conflicted. Murdoc could tell he was interested. Who wouldn't be? He was Murdoc-fucking-Niccals. Only a moron would turn down a night with him. He watched as Russel chewed his bottom lip in thought, and Murdoc just knew he had him. Then Russel slowly shook his head, and Murdoc's stomach dropped to his feet. 

" _No...?"_ He hissed in disbelief. Was that even in his vocabulary? 

"I'm sorry, Muds." Russel wouldn't meet his eyes."It's a bad idea. We're band mates first. This could ruin what we've all worked so hard for." 

"We've bounced back from worse!" Murdoc's voice cracked. "No one would have to know! Russel, look at me, I'm desperate, Russ-" 

The drummer stood up and gently pushed past him. He opened his door and held it open. He still wouldn't meet Murdoc's gaze. 

Murdoc's hurt turned to anger. "You’re _rejecting_ me? _Me?!_ Oh, I see, you're too good for me, is that it? You think that you're so much better than me?" 

Russel's shoulders slumped. "Muds, you know I don't think that-" 

"Shut up!" Murdoc stomped over to Russel and sneered into his face. "You'll regret this, fat arse." Then he stormed out of the room. 

He didn't stop until he got back to his room. He ignored the aching in his chest and the stinging behind his eyes, instead drowning it out with one of the numerous bottles of alcohol littering the floor.

He was NOT throwing a fit. He wasn't. He was just pissed that Russel knew exactly what he was being offered, and still turned it down. 

Murdoc drunk himself into a stupor and passed out. He didn't awaken until around noon the next day, and even then, he refused to come out of his room. 

Maybe he was pouting. Maybe he was acting like a child. Murdoc was too hurt and angry to care. 

Two days after Russel turned him down and Murdoc refusing to come out of his room, he heard a knock on his door. The bassist emerged from his nest of blankets and bottles and lumbered over to the door, dressed in only his briefs. He opened the door and was surprised to see an angry Noodle standing in his doorway. 

"Luv? What 'r you doin' 'ere?" He asked drowsily, slurring his words together. 

Noodle pursed her lips, glancing over his disheveled form and the half-empty bottle hanging loosely from his hand. "What did you do to Russel?" Her voice cut through his buzz like a knife. He blinked at her.

"Wot?" 

"Russel has not come out of his room in two days, and since neither have you, I have reason to suspect you have something to do with it, no?" 

Murdoc couldn't even find it in himself to be pleased by that news. It only made him feel worse. "I didn't do anything to that cow," Murdoc spat. He slammed the door in Noodle's face, or at least attempted to. She stopped the door with an arm like iron, pushing past it to enter Murdoc's room. She was so small, it was easy to forget just how fucking strong she was. 

" _Get the hell outta my room_!" He roared. He thought about throwing his bottle at her, but no matter how drunk or angry he was, Murdoc could never throw anything at Noodle.

"Not until I get an explanation." Noodle crossed her arms, her green eyes cutting deep through Murdoc's anger. 

"There's no explanation to tell!" 

"Bullshit." 

Murdoc gasped. Noodle never swore in English. It honestly scared him a little. He looked her up and down, reminding himself for what seemed like the hundredth time that she was an adult now. "Don't-" Murdoc stumbled closer to her, reaching a hand out to clutch her elbow. "Don't- you shouldn't swear, luv." 

Noodle shrugged him off. "I am an adult, Murdoc, so you better start treating me like one. Now as an adult and your band mate, I demand that you tell me why you have been such an ass these past couple weeks, and what you did to make Russel hole himself up in his room." 

Murdoc studied her face for a long time, his rage all but dissolved. Her presence tended to have that effect on him, ever since she was a child. He shook his head, clenching his eyes shut and looking at his feet. He dropped the bottle he was holding. It hit the floor with a dull thud, spilling liquor everywhere but he didn't care. He covered his face with his hands and groaned. 

"Murdoc-san?" Noodle said softly. She took his hands in her own, peering up into his face. She looked up at him with concern. "Please tell me." She urged. 

"I fucked up, Noodle." Murdoc stared at an old stain on the wall. "I asked Russel something I shouldn't have-- something I should have kept to myself." 

Her thumb rubbed his knuckles soothingly. "What did you ask him?" Her voice was so tender, so understanding, that Murdoc almost told her. He almost spilled everything to her.

"I... I'd really rather not say, if you don't mind." He let out a dry chuckle and pulled away from her. She let him go, a sad frown marring her pretty face. 

They stood in silence for a moment. Murdoc brandished a cigarette and lit it, his face solemn. "Has he... really not come out of his room?" He asked softly, exhaling smoke through his nostrils. He hoped his curiosity wasn't too obvious. 

Noodle nodded. "Yes. He will not talk either. I do not know what to do." She hugged herself around the middle. Murdoc felt a pang, for Noodle, for Russel, for himself. Because he had just been thinking with his dick, Murdoc ruined everything. _Again_. He took a long drag from his cigarette. He needed to fix this mess. He needed to put aside his irrelevant desire and put Gorillaz back on the right track.

"Look, I'll talk to the moody lard arse, alright?" He scratched the back of his head. "After all, he’s pouting because of me." _The album isn’t finished because of me_. He finished his cigarette and flicked it into the corner of his room. Noodle wrinkled her nose. 

She walked over to him, leaned up on her tip-toes and pressed a kiss to his cheek. "Thank you, Murdoc." She beamed. "I'm proud of you." 

Murdoc snorted. "Why?"

"Because you admitted your guilt for once, and you are going to try and set it right." 

Murdoc scoffed and grabbed an old pair of jeans off the floor. "Yeah, whatever, maybe I'm going soft." 

"Or maybe," Noodle rocked onto her heels. "You actually care about something other than yourself." 

Noodle turned on her toe and left. Murdoc stared after her, mulling over her words. He pondered how true that statement was as he walked over to the bathroom. 

After he showered and got dressed, he made his way over to Russel's room. His stomach churned as he stood outside the drummer's door, trying to think of what in Satan's name to say to him. Murdoc had never been in a situation like this, and had no idea how to even begin to approach it. 

So he knocked. 

"I'm fine, Noodle," came Russel's muffled response. 

Alright, not quite what Murdoc was expecting, but better than nothing. "It's Murdoc." He called back. 

There was a long pause, followed by shuffling and the sounds of heavy footsteps. The door opened and Russel poked his head out. "Hey." He greeted cautiously.

"Hey." Murdoc intoned. 

"What are you doing here?" 

Murdoc shoved his hands into his pockets, trying to appear aloof. "Heard you holed yerself up in yer room. Came by to see what's up." 

Russel narrowed his eyes. "Noodle sent you." 

"Sure did." 

"So this isn't the result of you actually giving shit?" 

Sparks of anger simmered in Murdoc's gut. "It doesn't matter who sent me, I'm here now aren't I?"

Russel opened the door a little wider so he could lean against the frame. "Yeah. Sure. Look, if you really want to talk then-" 

"I'd love to come in, thanks," Murdoc pushed passed Russel's beefy frame and into the room. It was pretty dark. The windows were covered with heavy curtains, with the only source of light being the television in the corner of the room. 

"Shit, Russ, didn't realize it was time for hibernation." Murdoc jested as he sat down on the edge of Russel's large bed. 

"You're one to talk. You go into hiding after a night of drinking all the time." Russel countered as he closed the door. He switched on the lamp next to his bed, giving the room an intimate, yellow glow. He crossed his arms over his barrel chest and settled his gaze on Murdoc, who fidgeted with the sleeve of his shirt. 

"Listen, Russ," Murdoc began with a sigh. "I never should have asked you to- well. I-I shouldn't have _propositioned_ you. I was drunk, and it seemed liked a brilliant idea at the time. It clearly bothered you, so can we just forget it happened? I won't hold up the album anymore." 

He glanced at Russel, trying to read the thoughtful expression on his round race. The drummer pursed his lips as he slowly sat down beside Murdoc, the bed dipping dramatically under his weight. 

"Is this an apology? From Murdoc Niccals?" Russel asked in a low voice. 

Murdoc turned to him, irritation flaring his temper, but it was almost immediately snuffed upon the playful look in Russel's white eyes. He let out a gravely chuckle of his own. "I don't know about that, mate. Consider it more of an olive branch." 

Russel nodded. He looked down at his lap, clasping his hands together between his knees. He took a deep breath through his nose before letting it out through his mouth. "I'll do it."

Murdoc furrowed his brow. "Do what?"

"I'll have sex with you." 

Murdoc's eyes went wide. "You... You will?" 

"Yeah." Russel looked at him. "It's like you said before, right? After all the shit that's happened to us, why not?" 

Murdoc leapt up from the bed in excitement. "Fuck yes, Russel! You won't regret this, I swear." He grinned from ear to ear. "So, uh, we gonna do this now?" 

Russel let out an uneasy laugh. "Uh, no. Not now. Tomorrow." 

"Why tomorrow?"

"I was supposed to take Noodle to the movies tomorrow night. I'll make 2D take her instead. We'll be alone for a few hours."

Murdoc paused. "Holy shit, you're a genius."

"Yeah, sure. Listen we'll talk more about this later, alright? You kinda interrupted my Star Trek marathon." Russel gestured to the television that Murdoc hadn't noticed was actually on pause. 

"Right. Fuckin' nerd." Murdoc teased. He stood up and stuffed his hands into his pockets. "Text me, alright? I don't want the others to know about this. Do you?" 

"No." Russel agreed quickly. Murdoc ignored the small rush of excitement he felt from the fact that this strange fucked-up situation just became a naughty secret. He quickly leaned over and pressed a sloppy kiss to Russel’s cheek, simply because he felt like it.

"See you later, fat arse." Murdoc called over his shoulder, then swiftly exited the room. Once he closed the door, he took a deep breath. This is by far the weirdest situation he'd ever been in, but by God did it excite him. 

\---

Later that night they texted each other and hashed out the relevant details. Obviously, wait until Noodle and 2D are for sure out of the flat before initiating anything. Absolutely no speaking of the arrangement to any of the other band members. And, upon Russel’s request, showering and grooming beforehand.

So that’s what Murdoc did. About an hour before Noodle and 2D were supposed to leave for movies, Murdoc did a thorough cleansing of himself in the shower. He usually didn’t give a shit about his hygiene, but Russel had made it very clear that he wasn’t touching him if he wasn’t clean. Besides, he was so excited for the evening to come that he got a bit carried away with his “cleansing” and actually got himself off by fingering himself. Perhaps Russel would appreciate Murdoc doing a little “stretching” before the main event. After all, the equipment he’d be using was quite exceptional. A little extra prepping wouldn’t hurt.

Murdoc put on a clean pair of black jeans and a red long-sleeve shirt, along with his inverted cross. He left out his underwear. He combed his thick locks of hair and even applied a dab of cologne to his person. He caught a glance of himself in the mirror as he did so and felt silly. It was just Russel. Why was he putting so much effort into his appearance? He grimaced at himself and mussed up his hair again. Whatever, he was dressed and clean and ready to roll.

He trotted downstairs and noticed Russel sitting in the living room, looking at his phone. He’d dressed up a bit too, sporting a nice pair of jeans and a crisp, white button-down shirt. He looked quite handsome. Good, Murdoc didn’t feel so silly anymore for spending a little time on his appearance.

“Have Stu and Noodle left yet?” Murdoc asked as he strode into the room.

Russel looked up. “Yeah, they left a few minutes ago. They said they’d be back by eleven.”

Murdoc nodded and glanced at the clock next to the couch. It read 7:19 pm. Fantastic, that left them a little under four hours. A smirk crossed his face as excitement settled into his stomach. He plopped himself down beside Russel on the sofa, making the cushions bounce with his weight. “Wanna get right to it, then?” He asked eagerly. “I’m all clean like ye asked.”

Russel raised his eyebrow at him as he shoved his phone into his pocket. “Really? You want to jump right into it?”

“’Course! Why not? Got a better idea?”

“Yeah, actually I do. I have an entire evening planned.”

“An entire evening?!” Murdoc spluttered. “You can’t exactly plan out an itinerary for something like this.” He paused, furrowing his brow. “Can you?”

Russel shrugged and stood up from the couch. “Probably not. Besides, I don’t have the _entire_ evening planned, per se, but I still have some stuff laid out before we get started. You know, to ease us in.”

Murdoc snorted. “What the hell does that mean?”

"It’s means we're doin' this my way, Muds.”

"Fine, fine, whatever. What have you got in mind?" 

 

\------

"You made me dinner?" Murdoc asked in awe as his wide-eyed gaze swept over the dining room table.

"Yeah." 

"But... But why? Why waste all this on me? Why can't we just go fuck?" 

"It’s not a waste. What's wrong with a little romance?" 

"Romance?! I'm not some soft little bird that needs to be pampered before a romp! I don't care about all that shit, Russ. C'mon, forget this nonsense." 

"Look, Murdoc. What you asked of me is a lot. I'm still not completely down with it, even though I agreed. While yes, it is a little stupid that I'm trying to romance you of all people, it's more for me than you. I'm trying to ease myself into it with some build up, alright? After all, if I'm gonna do this, I'm doin' it right." 

Murdoc sighed, dragging a hand down his face. He glanced at the table, which was actually clean with what looked like good food on it, along with a bottle of wine. Satan, Russel really did go all out on him. Murdoc was actually touched with his effort, and here he was mocking that effort with his usual attitude.

_Look at me, actually feeling guilty about this shit. I really am going soft._

He smiled a little, and then sat down without another word. 

Russel looked taken aback. He slowly took his own seat, all the while watching Murdoc for any signs of mockery. When none came, Russel grinned. "Thanks, Muds." 

Murdoc grunted and poured himself a generous glass of wine. "Whatever." 

They ate in silence for some time. Murdoc picked at the grilled chicken stir fry that Russel had made, which was actually pretty good. Russel practically inhaled his portion. It got a bit awkward after a while. Murdoc struggled to think of a topic to discuss before the silence dragged on for too long.

“So, uh… That bird thing you were working on a couple days ago. Did you finish it?” He asked as casually as he could while silently cursing Russel for insisting on this stupid dinner.

The drummer perked up at that, thank Satan. “Oh, that. Yeah, I did actually. It’s currently sitting on my desk. I’ll show you later.”

“Yeah, sure. Great.” Murdoc actually didn’t give a shit about the damn bird thing, but it was supposedly for Del, so it was clearly important to Russel. “What are you going to do with it?”

Russel wiped his face on his napkin and shrugged. “I dunno. Probably keep it. Or maybe give it to his family back in Brooklyn.” His face turned sad. “It’s been a while since I’ve visited them. Been even longer since I’ve been in contact with Del.”

“Do you miss him?” Murdoc wanted to kick himself as soon as the words left his mouth. Stupid question.

Russel didn’t seem upset by the question, but he still looked like Murdoc had killed his puppy. “Every day.” He replied softly.

Murdoc sighed and rubbed his forehead. “Fuck, I shouldn’t have asked that. Russel, I-“

“It’s alright. Really. I don’t mind talking about him.”

Murdoc didn’t believe him. He bit his lip and looked down at his plate. “Russel, can I ask you somethin’?

“Sure.”

“Are you, uh… Are you happy here? With the Gorillaz, I mean?”

Russel furrowed his brow and absently played with his fork as he contemplated. It made Murdoc nervous with how long it took the drummer to answer. “Yeah, I am happy. I mean, sure it got pretty rough when I lost Del, and it got even worse when Noodle went missing a while back, but once I found her again, found _you guys_ again, everything was fine. Especially after you got up the nerve to apologize to all of us for what you put us through.”

Murdoc grumbled under his breath something akin to ‘ _wasn’t my entire fault’_ , which earned him a glare from Russel. The drummer continued, “And I’m never bored with you guys, you know? I like having my mind occupied, so I don’t have to think or remember.” That struck a painful chord with Murdoc. He didn’t like to remember either. It’s why he drank. It had never occurred to Murdoc that Russel was just as hurt and broken as he was, though in different ways and by different people.

 “And I love making music,” Russel added, interrupting Murdoc’s musing. “And I love Noodle and 2D, even you. Despite you being… Well, you. I mean, I came back, didn’t I?”

Murdoc leveled his gaze with Russel’s, a genuine smile crossing his face. “Yeah, mate.” They lapsed into silence for a while, except it was different this time. It was comfortable, familiar; something that made Murdoc feel safe. It made him frown down at his plate. Shit, was this stupid dinner actually working on him? Was he being… _wooed_? No, it was most definitely the wine.

Murdoc refilled both his and Russel’s wine glasses. “You know,” Murdoc drawled as he took a generous sip. “This dinner thingy wasn’t half-bad.”

Russel raised his glass with a smile. “Cheers. Nice of you to agree, considering what I’m doing for you.”

Murdoc scoffed and leaned back in his chair. "What about me has got you so hung up about doing this?" 

Russel leveled him with a look. "You really asking me that?”

Murdoc nodded earnestly.

Russel sighed and rolled his eyes. “’Cause you’re _you_ , Muds. I keep expecting you to come out and say it was a prank or something. We got a lot of history, man, and you don't necessarily have the best track record. Also, I have an inkling on what you're like in the sack, and that's a lot to handle." 

Murdoc let out a dark chuckle. "Oh, I am a lot, alright." He stretched out his leg under the table and slid the tip of his boot up Russel's shin. The man jolted in his seat. "But I think a big boy like you can handle that."

They finished their dinner and put their plates in the sink. Afterwards, Russel led Murdoc into the living room and insisted on watching a movie. 

"Russel, I sat through your stupid little dinner, why do I have to sit through your stupid movie, too?! I just wanna _fuck_." He was not whining. Murdoc Niccals did not whine. 

"Murdoc, just humor me for once, would ya? We don't have to finish it." 

"Then what's the point of even watching it, fat arse?" 

Russel actually blushed and looked away before replying. "Because... Because I want it to be spontaneous, you know? Call me names all you want, but I want it to be a spur of the moment kind of thing." 

As much as Murdoc hated to admit, Russel's desire to make this authentic flattered him. He'd never had a real romantic evening full-stop before, now that he thought about it. It was nice to have someone go to such lengths for him. It was nice to be _wooed,_ he supposed.

He grabbed the half-empty bottle of wine and brought it over to the couch with him. He nursed it straight from the bottle as he begrudgingly leaned against Russel's beefy side. He ignored Russel's look of disapproval. The movie started up, revealing itself to be some kind of sci-fi film. Murdoc smirked. Of course Russel would be the one to pick out some bullshit like that for a date. 

Murdoc frowned and glanced at the wine in his hand. He just acknowledged that what he was doing with his drummer was, in fact, a date. He must be getting more drunk than he thought. Suddenly, Russel put an arm around him. He tensed up immediately, internally freaking out at the casual contact. However, the gentle, slow stroking of his shoulder eventually had him easing into the half-embrace. Yup, he was definitely drunk if he was allowing _cuddling_ of all things. He barely cuddled with the broads he brought home, let alone the drummer of his band, the man who broke his nose five times. What a strange world they lived in. 

About twenty minutes into the movie, Murdoc started getting antsy. He'd made it through over half of his bottle of wine, and comfortable, buzzing warmth had settled into his belly. Russel was pressed up against his side, warm and solid and bulging with muscle, muscle that could pin Murdoc down with little effort. The bassist shivered at the thought. A different kind of warmth flared up in his loins. He rolled his mismatched gaze up to glance at Russel's profile. He seemed to be enjoying the movie, a lax expression on his round face. He didn't look at all like a man anticipating sex. It pissed Murdoc off. 

He reached out and slid his hand along Russel's thigh. Right away he noticed just how thick and muscular it was. He gave it an experimental squeeze. Russel shifted beside him but didn't move away. Murdoc smirked. He casually stroked his thumb along the seam of his jeans, leaning a little deeper into the larger man's side. Murdoc could smell Russel's cologne, and he let out a low hum of appreciation. He saw Russel glance at him from his peripheral. 

_Come on, fat arse, make a move._

He knew what Murdoc was doing, he had to. Murdoc wasn't exactly being subtle. He might as well set up a neon sign pointing straight to his crotch. 

A few minutes passed with still no further development from Russel. Murdoc had run out of patience. 

"Fuck this," He growled and tossed his bottle to the other end of the couch. He rolled up onto his knees, straddling Russel's thighs and fisting his hands into the collar of his button-down shirt. His nostrils flared while his eyes bored straight into Russel's pure white ones. 

"I'm done waitin', mate. I've been on edge for weeks, been _wanting_ this for weeks. Wanting _you_ , fat arse! So you are going to take me upstairs right now and fuck me _rrrraw_ , understand?" 

Russel stared up at him in surprise, which slowly turned to into a smoldering smirk. "You're such a needy bitch." 

Before Murdoc could even open his mouth to reply, he was swept up into a pair of strong arms. The alcohol in his system made the world spin as Russel stood up from the couch, holding Murdoc bridal-style. Murdoc let put a breathy giggle, his head lolling forward to rest against a toned shoulder. 

"Didn't think you'd actually carry me, mate," Murdoc slurred. He slid his arms around Russel's neck and nuzzled his face under his jaw. "Never been on this end before. I like it." He bit, _hard_ , into the soft skin of Russel's neck, almost drawing blood. 

"Ow, fuck!" Russel stumbled on the stairs, nearly dropping Murdoc. "Damn, Muds. Fucking vampire." 

Murdoc chuckled low in his chest. He slid his tongue over the angry red mark he made before sucking a bruise over the already irritated skin, making sure the mark would be there tomorrow. He could feel Russel's pulse speed up under his touch. He continued to press sloppy, open-mouthed kisses to his neck, jaw, wherever he could currently reach. Suddenly, he was dropped onto something soft, and he let out a grunt of surprise. He glanced around and realized he was in Russel's room. Sitting on Russel's bed. With Russel himself standing at the foot of it, an odd look on his dark face as he stared at Murdoc. 

Murdoc smirked and locked eyes with the drummer. He drunkenly crawled on all fours over to where Russel was standing and sat back on his heels. "C'mon, mate," he said hoarsely. He pressed his palm against the zipper of Russel's trousers. "Show me what's in there. Show me your _fat cock_." 

Russel sucked in a breath through his teeth. "Jesus Christ, Muds." 

He quickly opened his jeans with shaking hands, and Murdoc took it upon himself to tug down the hem of his plaid boxers. Russel's cock was only semi-hard, but Murdoc still growled in want at the sight of it. He wrapped his fingers around the shaft, and Russel gasped. Murdoc licked his lips as he stroked it to life, filling out in his palm to where he could barely fit his hand around it.

"Satan, it's bloody fantastic." Murdoc swooped down to lick the head. It jerked against his tongue. Murdoc took it into his mouth and shallowly bobbed his head while his hands pumped the base of the shaft. Russel let out a groan above him, and Murdoc answered it with a growl of his own. He quickly adjusted his position so that he was sitting on the edge of the bed with Russel standing between his parted legs. He raised his hands up to grasp his drummer's generous bottom and took as much cock as his throat would allow. He wasn't quite able to reach down to the base, but it was enough to have Russel almost buckling over him. 

"Fuck, _Murdoc_." Russel's entire body trembled. He clearly hadn't expected Murdoc to be this skilled at fellatio. The bassist felt a fresh spike of arousal heat up his loins at surprising Russel so thoroughly, and obviously giving him the best blowjob of his life. Murdoc hummed as he bobbed his head, stroking his tongue along the thick veins that protruded from the shaft. Russel choked above him. A large hand tangled itself in Murdoc's hair, and dragged him away from his unfinished project. He practically whined in protest. He continued to pump Russel's cock with his hands instead. 

"Muds, stop, I'm about to explode," Russel warned with a deep rasp. 

" _Fuck, yes_ , come on my face." 

Instead of a getting what he asked for, Murdoc nearly blew a fuse when Russel actually took a step back and out of his reach. Instead, he clenched his hands into the sheets as he watched Russel struggle to calm down. 

"Holy shit, Muds." 

"Yeah, holy shit. Now get your arse back over here." 

Russel stared at him with an incredulous look. "Look, man, I'm 40 years old. I ain't a spring chicken, and neither are you in case you hadn't noticed. I got one shot in me, and then I'm useless. And as amazing as your mouth is, I'm pretty sure you don't want this to end so soon." 

Murdoc flushed as he realized how carried away he'd got. He clenched and unclenched his hands into the sheets, trying to level his breathing and clear his head enough to be able to focus. He needed to focus. He'd been waiting for this for a long time. 

"Alright," He said in a low, shaky voice. "Alright. Let's... Let's slow down. Here," He stood up and peeled off his shirt. He was already sweating. Russel worked him up pretty good. He tossed his shirt into the corner, and then reached for Russel's hands. He guided them up to wrap around his waist, touching his bare skin. He shivered at how warm they were. He raised his head up to meet Russel's gaze. 

"Let's get warmed up some more, shall we?" Murdoc purred. He curled his fingers into the collar of Russel's dress shirt and tugged. The drummer leaned down, and their lips met for the first time. 

Russel's lips were full and soft. They were pliant under Murdoc's eager movements, and parted easily when he prodded at them with his tongue. Russel's mouth was warm and wet and everything a kiss should be. It was only enhanced by his erection brushing against Murdoc's belly. It made the bassist only that much more eager for more. He breathed heavily through his nose as he tilted his head to the side, devouring Russel's succulent mouth. However, as Murdoc attempted to escalate the kiss further, Russel smoothed his calloused hands over Murdoc's shoulders, keeping the kiss slow and intimate, not letting Murdoc get too wound up too quickly. 

All at once, Murdoc was too hot yet not hot enough. The friction between their bodies was becoming almost unbearable, but Murdoc couldn't pull away. He'd kissed a lot in his lifetime, had been very thorough in devouring his partners and reducing them to begging messes. However, he'd never had the same treatment done to him. Russel was kissing him like he was a treasure. His hands held him and soothed him, his tongue dexterous and thorough. He had Murdoc convinced that he was the most important person in the world. The intimacy had him both giddy and afraid at the same time. He let out a muffled groan when Russel's hands roamed downwards to grope the curve of his ass. Russel broke the kiss with a wet noise and moved to Murdoc's pointed ear. 

"Take off your pants and get on the bed." He commanded in that smooth voice of his. Murdoc's eyelids fluttered and he nodded quickly. He fumbled with the button of his jeans, realizing his heart was pounding, and _why were his hands trembling so much_ \--

Large, warm hands closed over Murdoc's and opened his jeans for him with ease. Those full lips were on his once more as his zipper was pulled down, and Russel nibbled his bottom lips as his jeans were eased over his hips. They pooled down at his ankles, and he stepped out of them. Russel pulled away and nudged at his chest. Murdoc walked backwards until the backs of his knees hit the bed. He fell back onto the mattress with Russel's large frame looming over him. Despite Murdoc’s obviously submissive position, he felt a bit more in control. Some of his usual suave returned with a smirk. 

"You gonna fuck me now, Russ?" Murdoc rasped. He barely recognized himself. His voice was rough with an edge of desperation. He let his legs fall open, and reveled in how Russel's eyes immediately went to between his thighs. Murdoc licked his lips. "I want you to. Fuck, I want you so badly," He couldn't resist reaching for his own cock, which had been lying forgotten against his hip, hard and aching for attention. He managed to give it a few quick tugs before Russel slapped his hand away. 

"Don't touch yourself unless I say so." Russel growled. 

Murdoc nodded again, pupils blown wide and lips parted in an excited grin. He didn't think Russel would be into taking charge like this, but he certainly wasn't complaining. He watched as Russel took off his dress shirt and carefully draped it over his desk chair. He then opened one of numerous desk drawers and pulled out a small tube of lube. A fresh wave of desire washed over Murdoc at the sight of it in Russel's large hand. This was all suddenly very real. This was going to happen. Russel Hobbs, his drummer, a man he'd known for over fifteen years, was going to fuck him. He was so intoxicated by the thought that he hadn't realized he was talking. 

“Come on, Russ- _comeoncomeoncomeon_ , I'm so ready for this, I'm aching for ya, just _fuck_ me-" He interrupted himself with a gasp as Russel gave a firm squeeze to his erection. 

"Be patient, Muds. I'm not going anywhere." 

" _Russel._.." 

Those large hands Murdoc admired were now stroking his thighs, gently coaxing them further apart. His fingers moved directly to his entrance to tenderly stroke the puckered ring of muscle. They pulled away briefly, then returned to the tender stroking except now with a generous amount of lube. 

"Ready?" Russel asked. 

"Yes, _yes_ , do it!" Murdoc practically begged as he writhed against the sheets. Russel pinned down his hips with one hand while he gently eased a finger inside with the other. There was almost no resistance, and Russel smirked. 

"You fingered yourself beforehand, didn't you?" It was more of accusation than a question. 

Murdoc nodded meekly. He clenched his hands into the pillow above his head and bit his lip. "While I was in the shower," he elaborated. "Couldn't help myself." 

"Did you get off to it? Did you pretend it was me?" Russel's tone was rough, almost predatory, and Murdoc was melting under it. 

"Of course I did," He admitted without shame. He grunted and threw his head back as Russel pushed another finger inside him. It didn't hurt, and it didn't feel good yet either. It just felt _interesting_. His arousal was beginning to wane. He reached a hand down to bring it back to life, but Russel smacked him away again. 

"What did I say about touching yourself?" 

Murdoc tried to muffle the involuntary whimper that erupted from him. Russel's tone was making him so submissive it frightened him. "Shit, Russel, I need to touch it." 

"I think you can manage." The drummer countered. He was scissoring his fingers inside Murdoc, stretching him with gentle and steady movements. A third finger was added, and the bassist bit his lip hard enough to almost draw blood. Russel’s fingers were quite thick by themselves. Murdoc could only imagine how big his dick would feel inside of him. The thought had his hips rocking against Russel’s fingers against his will. All too soon, those fingers withdrew, and Murdoc was left feeling empty and frustrated. He propped himself up on his elbows and saw Russel standing between his parted legs, rolling on a condom and slathering plenty of lube onto his cock. The sight alone was enough to have his own cock weeping with pre-cum against his stomach.

“Oh, fuck yes,” Murdoc growled as Russel grabbed his thighs in both of his hands. He rubbed the tip of his penis against Murdoc’s entrance, and the bassist collapsed onto his back with a groan.

“Ready?”

“Fuck, Russel, if you ask me that again, I’ll kill you and harvest your dick for a dildo.”

Russel smirked and continued to grind himself against Murdoc’s taint. “Hey now, don’t get hissy. I could leave right now.”

Murdoc fixed him with a crazed stare. “You wouldn’t dare.”

“Try me.” And with that, Russel pushed himself inside. Murdoc sucked in a breath and dug his fingers into the sheets.

“Fuck, fuck, _fuck, shit_!” Murdoc spewed as his insides struggled to accommodate the intrusion. He breathed heavily through his nose as he relaxed his spine, tilting his hips upward to assist Russel’s penetration. It was so much; better than he had ever dreamed. Murdoc was overwhelmed in the most delicious way. He writhed and whimpered as he seemed to be stretched to his very limits. And Russel just _kept feeding him more._ It seemed like an eternity before Murdoc felt Russel’s hips against the backs of his thighs. By then, Russel was panting above him, hands bruising Murdoc’s thighs with their grip, and Murdoc was so intoxicatingly full.

“How… How is it?” Russel asked a rough voice that sent shivers down Murdoc’s spine. He reached for Murdoc’s cock and pumped it gently.

“Ah-Amazing,” Murdoc replied. He clenched his anus experimentally, and Russel choked out a moan. Murdoc quite liked the sound of that. “You?”

Russel nodded. “Same.” He gently grinded himself against Murdoc as he adjusted to his size. Murdoc himself was trembling; it was too much and not enough. He tangled his hand into the sheets around his head and met Russel’s hooded gaze.

“Move,” He commanded. “I can’t stand this; I’ll go crazy if you don’t move.”

Russel didn’t say anything back. He adjusted his gripfrom Murdoc’s thighs to his hips and braced him against the bed. Then he tenderly pulled his hips back and shallowly thrust himself back in. Murdoc gasped, his whole body rocking from the force. Russel did it again, and again, continuing to thrust into his bassist’s pliant body.

“F-faster,” Murdoc panted weakly. Russel complied, his hips speeding up until wet slapping noises filled the room. Murdoc met his thrusts with his own, angling his hips in different directions in order to reach his prostate. It didn’t take long, and soon Russel’s dick was hitting his sweet spot dead on with each thrust of his hips. Murdoc was moaning and gasping lewdly, throwing his head back, not at all shy about how much noise he was making. Russel groaned and cursed above him, his eyes clenched shut with effort.

“Oh shit, oh fuck, Russel,” Murdoc couldn’t control his voice. He cried out with each thrust, his raspy voice filling up the room. It felt so _good._ Russel seemed to be everywhere at once; touching him, stroking him, _inside him_ , filling him up to the brim. His presence loomed over Murdoc’s rocking body, and it was just _so good_. Murdoc should have thought of this years ago, all this time wasted not having Russel’s dick inside him. Before Murdoc knew it, he was at the edge.

“Russel, I think I’m gonna cum,” he warned. Russel grunted and gradually slowed his thrusts to a halt. Murdoc looked at him deliriously. “What…? Why did you stop?”

“T-Turn over.”

Murdoc raised an eyebrow, but did what he was told. He rolled over onto his hands and knees. He felt the mattress dip as Russel settled in behind him. He was entered once more, and oh _Satan,_ it was just as glorious as the first time. A delicious stretch of his muscles, the exquisite fullness. Murdoc was drunk on all of it. Russel didn’t start slow this time around. He pace was brutal, and with the new angle, he found Murdoc’s prostate with ease.

Murdoc buckled under the pleasure. He pillowed his head onto his forearms, digging his fingers into the sheets as drool leaked from his panting mouth. He spread his knees further, taking Russel as deep inside him as he could. He whined when Russel’s calloused hand encircled his aching cock and pumped it harshly. It was too much. Murdoc wasn’t so much brought to the edge as he was shoved over it. His climax came abruptly, and he could only choke out a sob as he finished into Russel’s fist.

With his orgasm went his energy, and Murdoc was nearly unconscious as he was manhandled onto his back. He thought they were finished, until much to his dismay, Russel _kept going._ Murdoc could only hold on and take it. Russel loomed over him, staring at him with glazed, white eyes. Murdoc couldn’t look away. He clenched his hands weakly around Russel’s forearms.

“Come on, Russ,” Murdoc rasped. “Come for me, _come inside me,”_

That seemed to do the trick. Russel buried himself inside to the hilt and let out a deep groan. His massive body shuddered as he bruised Murdoc’s hips with his fingers. Then he was pulling out and collapsing onto the bed beside him. They laid there for a bit, panting and trembling from the ordeal. Murdoc was sticky and sweaty, but so utterly satisfied. He hadn’t felt this good in years. He hadn’t _had sex_ that good in years. He saw out of the corner of his eye Russel pull off the condom and throw it into the trashcan beside the bed. He frowned, wishing that Russel had actually cum inside him, but the condom meant less cleanup.

“We are definitely doing that again,” Murdoc said with a grin as he stared at the ceiling.

Russel didn’t respond.

“Fat arse, did you hear me?”

Silence.

“Russel?”

A soft snore came from beside him. Murdoc glanced to his side. Russel was asleep, eyes closed and drool leaking from the corner of his mouth. Murdoc stared at him for a moment, amazed that he could fall asleep that quickly after sex, until he noticed his own eyelids drooping from exhaustion.

Fine, he thought. Fat bastard is off the hook.

  
\---

Russel awoke the next morning to Murdoc's raspy voice next to his ear. He was too groggy to make out what was being said, so he let out an irritated grumble and attempted to shove the other man away. He got angry punch to the bicep in return. He sobered immediately from the pain. 

"Ow, the fuck?" Russel growled as he finally opened his eyes. He saw Murdoc leaning over him with a smug look on his face. It took him a moment to remember why the bassist was in his bed to begin with, and then be shocked upon the fact that Murdoc was _still_ there the morning after. 

"Uh... Morning?" Russel attempted. The bassist snickered before settling his full weight on Russel's torso. They were both still naked, a fact Russel realized with a start. 

"Good morning indeed," Murdoc replied with a lecherous grin. "Was hoping we could get another romp in before I shoved off." 

"Really?" Russel raised his eyebrows. If he knew anything about Murdoc, it's that he usually didn't stick around for seconds when it came to his partners. 

"You seem surprised, mate." 

"Well, yeah. I mean, I would have expected you to have snuck out before I woke up." 

Murdoc's expression fell slightly. "Do you want me to leave?" If Russel didn't know any better, he'd say Murdoc sounded hurt.

Russel laid there with Murdoc draped on top of him, stunned at this _affectionate_ side of Murdoc that seemed to forming right in front of his eyes. The man seemed to _want_ to hang around longer with Russel, even if it was just to fuck. It was... Odd. Russel wasn't used to it. He wasn't used to being wanted, period. He was flattered and confused, because it was Murdoc of all people making him feel this way. After all, the two of them only planned for the one night. They didn't really discuss what would come after. Besides, even though he'd never admit it to Murdoc, last night had been one of the greatest nights of his life. He wouldn't mind an encore. 

Russel raised his hands up to Murdoc's hips, his fingers grazing the rise of his buttocks. "No. I want you to stay." Russel answered, and it was the truth. He _liked_ Murdoc. More than he ever expected to. Perhaps it was the sex making him emotional, or maybe it had always been there. Regardless, it's there now, and Russel was enjoying feeling something other than grief and depression for once, even if it was for someone like Murdoc. 

“Wait, what time is it?” Russel asked abruptly. Murdoc reached out and grabbed his phone off the end table.

“About ten o’clock. Why?”

“Won’t Noodle and 2D hear us?”

The bassist sat up so that he was straddling Russel's hips. “Dullard is out at his stupid job. As for Noodle,” He placed his hands on the drummer's soft belly, and began to slowly rock his hips. Russel's dick gradually filled out under the steady movements, and it curled upwards against Murdoc's ass. He hummed in appreciation. “Who knows what she’s doing, eh? Best keep our volume down.” He let out a laugh.

Russel shook his head but couldn’t help but grin. “You crazy motherfucker.” He teased, and Murdoc winked down at him in response.

"I love your cock, Russ," Murdoc growled. He reached a hand back to grope the hard appendage, and Russel sucked in a breath. 

"You filled me up so good, it was all I could feel." Murdoc was babbling now, like he usually did during sex. His own dick was curling up towards his stomach. Russel moved to stroke it, and Murdoc growled in pleasure. He quickly opened a condom and slid it onto Russel’s erection. He then raised his hips and positioned himself over the tip of Russel's penis. 

"Shit, Muds, y-you're not-" He grabbed Murdoc's narrow hips to stop him. "Aren't you sore? You sure you're up for this?'

"Fuck yeah I'm sore!" Murdoc exclaimed. “I feel like I’ve been plowed by a bear. That's what makes it _good_ , mate." He pressed himself down over Russel's cock, the thick head sliding past the ring of muscle with relative ease. Russel bit his lip and groaned. He had to look away; the sight alone was almost too much. He slid a hand up Murdoc's back to his neck, tangling his fingers into thick locks of hair. He forced Murdoc to look at him. 

"You opened yourself up while I was asleep, didn't you?" Russel accused breathlessly. Murdoc nodded quickly as he tenderly began to roll his hips. He arched his back forward, planting his hands on either side of Russel's head. 

"Fuck, that's hot," Russel moaned. He gave a sharp tug to Murdoc's hair. He keened in response. "You just love being filled up, huh?"

"Yes!" Murdoc practically whined. "Yes, fuck yes, I love it, I _need_ it, give it to me." 

Russel usually didn't care much for dirty talk, but Murdoc seemed to revel in all kinds of praise or insults during sex. Made sense, considering the man hardly ever shut up anyway.

"God, you're such a slut." Russel moved his hands back down to Murdoc's hips. He began to thrust up into the other man, meeting the wild rolls of his hips with sharp, wet sounds. 

"I'm a slut, I'm such a _fucking slut_ -" 

Russel cut him off with a deep, open-mouthed kiss. Murdoc practically melted as he curled his long tongue around Russel's, spit leaking out the corner of his mouth. They reached their climaxes fairly quickly, and were soon once again laying side-by-side on the bed, panting and sweating in the afterglow.

“Well,” Murdoc said brightly as he got up from the bed. “Like I said last night after you rudely fell asleep on me, we’re definitely doing that again.” He hunted for his clothes as Russel sat up.

“You mean, like, a regular thing?” He asked skeptically.

“Absolutely!” Murdoc found his jeans and gingerly slid himself into them. He winced as he bent at the waist. “You were incredible, Russ. I had no idea you packing such an exquisite ‘instrument’.” He laughed at his own shitty joke as he pulled on his shirt.

Russel frowned thoughtfully. He tucked the blanket around his waist for modesty as he sat at the edge of the bed. He opened his mouth to reply, but Murdoc stopped him with a finger to his lips.

“Ah! Before you say ‘no’, think about it, yeah?” He grabbed his phone off the end table and quickly glanced through his notifications. He made a clicking sound with his tongue as his furrowed his brow, and then quickly pocketed the phone. “I think it’s a great deal, having me as a fuck buddy. Trust me, I’d know.” He grinned lecherously, and Russel couldn’t help but smile back.

“Welp, I’d better bounce, before either one of the kiddies comes snooping around looking for us.” He made his way over to the door.

“Hey, Muds?” Russel called. Murdoc paused and looked over his shoulder with a hum. Russel rubbed his wrist as he smiled sheepishly. “I… I had a good time.”

Murdoc smiled, a real, genuine smile. “Me too, mate.” Then he slipped out the door, leaving Russel alone with his thoughts. He glanced at over at his desk, at the finished bird-morph he forgot to show Murdoc.

That’s okay, he thought with a grin. He’d show him next time.

 


End file.
